House of Oz
by Fierce Delta Ladies-chan
Summary: Full summary inside: As Lisa Cuddy looked at the tiny people cheering her and singing that "ding dong, the Wicked Witch Stacy is dead," she turned to the little obsequious black dog looking up at her, feeling a little surreal. She gave in to the urge.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** As Lisa Cuddy looked at the tiny people cheering her and singing that "ding dong, the Wicked Witch Stacy is dead," she turned to the little obsequious black dog looking up at her, feeling a little surreal. She gave in to the urge. "I don't think we're in New Jersey anymore, Toto."

**Author's note: **With many thanks to Gundam Delta 6 and Hotaruchan2002 for all the encouragement, hand holding and listening to my rants. Gundam Delta 6 wrote the lyrics and Hotaruchan threatened (promised) us with whips and chains whenever we wandered off topic. When we came up with the idea during one of our chats, I thought it would be a cute and short little ditty. Boy, was I ever wrong.

**Disclaimer:** We do not own House MD and affiliated characters, they are the property of David Shore and Katie Jacobs. We do not own the Wizard of Oz, Tin Man, and other sources from which we derived our bastardized version of Oz, they are the property of Frank L. Baum, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and RHI Entertainment respectively.

**Chapter One**

It was a sunny day outside Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, and presumably the sunny climes extended to the rest of New Jersey as well. Unfortunately for a number of people whose offices were of the indoors persuasion, they could not enjoy the afternoon sunshine free of work. One such unfortunate was Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at the aforementioned PPTH.

Indeed, Lisa Cuddy felt the allure of the warm sunny day and longed to be outside. She did settle upon a compromise, deciding to visit the clinic and tend her services. She rose from her desk, closing the file she had been perusing and made her way to the door. Pulling on her lab coat, she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

An afternoon in the clinic sounded like a grand idea. Instead, she bumped into Detective Tritter, an annoying wrinkle in her plan. She pasted on a smile, however, playing the role of a cooperative civilian. "Detective, what brings you by?"

Tritter smiled placidly back, "I just wanted to follow up, ask you some questions. How about we get some lunch?"

Lisa's stomach growled then, reminding her that she had only eaten a salad at her desk, and that had been several hours ago. She felt her smile get a little tight and she nodded to hide that fact. "Shall we to my cafeteria?"

Tritter smiled, "nothing would please me more, Dr. Cuddy."

Somehow, Lisa doubted that as she lead the way to the cafeteria, feeling like she was walking to certain doom. Lisa told herself not to be ridiculous. It was simply lunch.

Right?

Absolutely nothing to worry about. They had a rather pleasant lunch. Tritter had paid for their meals, playing the gallant. It did nothing to disarm Lisa whatsoever. She still maintained her guard, waiting for the dreaded sword of Damocles to fall.

When the impromptu lunch was over, Lisa had answered his questions, being vague with the appearance of being straight and to the point. Lisa was an academic, a politician and Dean of Medicine; she didn't get to that point on her good looks. She had honed and finely crafted her ability to negotiate, prevaricate and close deals which were of benefit to her.

She never outright lied, for that would be wrong, especially to an officer of the law, but she cast better light on certain views. It was in the best interests of the hospital. It was in the best interest of her brilliant doctor who solved more cases than would have by any other doctor, anywhere.

It was with a sense of relief that she went back into her office, confident that Tritter wouldn't find anything to help his investigation from her quarter. She sat at her desk, opening the file she had been looking at only to close it again when she began to feel odd. Euphoric, even.

She stood up too fast and the world swayed. She realized she was feeling vertigo. She laughed, before she could stop herself. This was wrong. She couldn't breathe. Nothing felt right. Something was terribly wrong. Her hand smacked the desk looking for something to write with. Marker, pen, something.

_Vertigo_, she managed to scribble across the closed file. She laughed again, her hand was so weak, she couldn't... _muscle weakness_. Her hand wasn't steady and it showed. She hoped House could read it. Hoped he would understand it. Hoped...

She mashed the phone key pad, trying to get something, anyone. Frustrated, but finding it so horribly amusing, she giggled as she stumbled to the door. Tears were falling down her face, ruining her make up.

Nurse Brenda, dear sweet, bitchy, Nurse Brenda Previn looked up and saw her. The other woman raced around the desk of the clinic and arrived just as Cuddy lost consciousness, with one last heaving gasp.

"I need a crash cart, stat!" was the last thing Lisa Cuddy heard before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The first thing of which Cuddy was aware was the feel of soft cotton under her hands. She was lying on something soft, but firm. Pliant, but supportive. She stretched, feeling her body loosen pleasantly. There was no pain. No gasping for breath. As far as she could tell, she was perfectly fine. Relaxed, more than she had felt in years. It was a great feeling.

Then she opened her eyes. She yelped.

The little black dog yipped back, thinking this was jolly great fun. His little tail wiggled so fiercely fast, Lisa was almost afraid the dog would fall off the bed. The little dog almost danced in place, little tongue lolling out his tiny mouth and his black eyes were bright. Cuddy was more than a little confused.

She sat up and examined her surroundings. It was a simple room, but aged in a way. The walls were a faded, dirty ecru interrupted by a large window with frames painted black and a door the same colour as the walls, but with the frame also painted black. There was a simple bedside table, a short squat little thing with a drawer and a door beneath, granting access to its empty body.

The dog took her attention again, and she petted him, examining his collar. Toto was etched in the leather, but nothing else. Amusement quirked Lisa's lips, before her curiosity got the better of her.

She had been gasping for breath, just a while ago. Dying, even, she was certain. That she was here confused her. The surroundings were unfamiliar to her, and she could think of no reason why she would be here. She wasn't even sure of where here was.

"Hello?" she called out, unsure of whom she expected to answer her call. If this was House's idea of a joke, so help her God, she would give him the payback of his life. Toto jumped down from the bed carefully, before coming to her side, looking up at her happily. Hearing a rustle, Lisa looked down at herself, hand touching the fabric of the garment she wore. It was a lovely dress, white and blue checkered.

She tried to shake off the eerie notion that someone had to have dressed her. It just didn't bear thinking. Instead, she focused on finding someone, anyone, to explain just what was going on here. Trying the door, she was startled to find that it was barely on its hinges, damaged. She then noted the walls had extensive cracks in them, almost as though the room had been lifted once and then dropped.

The eerie feeling was coming back again. She forced the door open and walked through a short hallway to the outdoors, Toto, the little black dog following close behind. She blinked at the bright sunlight, a contrast from the gloom of the room she had been in. Everything was bright out here. Vivid colours of flowers blooming and the world was cleaner somehow.

Walking down the steps, and walking past the veranda, she paused. Instinctively knowing that she was going to find something she just knew she didn't want to see. Inexorably, she couldn't help herself. She looked down to see a pair of rather attractive legs, wearing sensible lawyer shoes poking out from beneath the house.

Oh dear. Lisa pinched herself, and winced at the pain. She had to be dreaming, but that had _hurt_!

She did not have long to ruminate on her insane circumstances, before the munchkins came out of their very pretty houses. Only they weren't munchkins and the pretty houses looked more like the doorways to the exam rooms in the clinic. They were tiny patients. Clinic room patients, Cuddy realized. She wondered what drug she was on. She must have been smoking something pretty potent.

"She's dead!" One of the patients said. "She's dead!"

The others murmured, before smiling and cheering. Then they started singing.

As Lisa Cuddy looked at the tiny people cheering her and singing that "ding dong, the Wicked Witch Stacy is dead," she turned to the little obsequious black dog looking up at her, feeling a little surreal. She gave in to the urge. "I don't think we're in New Jersey anymore, Toto."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Lisa recognized Doctor Biro (albeit a good one and a half feet shorter than her normal height of 5 and a half feet tall) walking up, holding a medical file. The morgue director knelt and poked one of the legs with her pen. Seemingly satisfied, she stood, turned and began to sing in a quite remarkable alto, "as coroner, I must aver that not only is Stacy really dead, she is most sincerely dead!"

Biro signed the certificate of death with a flourish. She snapped the file closed, and made her way... away. Several of the patients gathered in front of Lisa, filling in the void left behind and began dancing and singing synchronically.

"We represent the Pharmacy Guild, The Pharmacy Guild, The Pharmacy Guild  
And in the name of the Pharmacy Guild,  
We wish to welcome you to Clinic Patient Land.  
We welcome you to Clinic Patient Land, Tra la la la la la la!"

A mini nurse Brenda stepped forward and gave Cuddy a handful of lollipops, smiling prettily, "welcome to Clinic Patient Land," she said with a curtsy, "we hope you enjoy your stay."

Lisa mutely accepted the lollipops. She was a little horrified by how much this didn't seem all that crazy to her. It was a dream, no matter how real it was, she reassured herself. She'd wake up soon. She just had to wake up soon.

There was more dancing and singing in general. The tiny people were all just so happy that Lisa had to go with the flow and smile and laugh too. Suddenly there was a hushed silence, a palpable sense of awe. Lisa looked at their faces before she followed their gaze to the sky.

She squinted, seeing in the distance a large bubble. It glowed a faint pink and it slowly grew larger and larger until it was tall enough to accommodate Lisa. The Clinic Patients moved aside, giving enough room for the bubble to land in front of her. The bubble shimmered and faded, revealing Allison Cameron bedecked in a pink lab coat, pink pantsuit and pink high heels.

"Pink Lady!" the Clinic Patients all cried out, moving closer to the White Witch of the North. "Allison of the Pink!" The patients all reached out a hand to Cameron, and she smiled back at everyone with a wide, kind, and beautiful smile. She gestured gently, showing her love and happiness to the little people surrounding her.

"Who was it that ended the Wicked Witch of the East's pall over this land?" Cameron asked, peering over the crowd.

Nurse Brenda skipped forward, excitedly pointing toward Lisa. "It was her! Her house fell from the sky and landed on the Wicked Witch Stacy!"

Lisa's eyes widened. Oh no, they so weren't going to cast her as Dorothy, no way, no- "Yes," her mouth opened without her permission, "but I'm terribly sorry-"

Allison smiled gently, "there's no need to be sorry. It was regretful that her life had to end to put a stop to her evil, but you are a hero." Allison stepped forward lightly, pulling off a golden stethoscope from around her neck. Fitting the ear pieces to her ears, she placed the other end on Cuddy's chest. "Yes," Allison spoke, "your heart beats true, your heart beats like a hero. You were fated to be here."

This time, Lisa was in full control of her verbal faculties, "but I don't understand! What is this place? Why can't I wake up?"

Allison laughed, "why, all of this is the Clinic Patient Land," she gestured grandly, before wrapping the stethoscope back around her neck. "You are in the lands of Oz. I see great things in your future."

"I need to get back home. I have responsibilities. I'm the Dean of Medicine at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I can't stay here."

"All will be well," Allison reassured Lisa, "you will not remain here longer than you are needed." Cameron made a gesture, and a briefcase appeared in her hand. "Take this," she said, "it was the Wicked Witch Stacy's. By the laws of the lands, it is now your responsibility. Protect this from the Wicked Witch of the West. It will guarantee your safe return home."

Lisa shoved the lollipops into a handy pocket of her dress before accepting the briefcase numbly. Why was this happening to her? She should've been dreaming about being at a spa resort. Why wasn't she dreaming about being at a spa resort?

Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning and a deep male voice cackling. Lisa shielded her eyes from the brilliance of the bright light and saw Detective Tritter on a flying police motorbike. He waved a police baton and more lightning flashed so fast that the bang of thunder came several seconds later.

The Clinic Patients all scattered, crying out in fear. Allison stood her ground, throwing her power toward the Wicked Witch Tritter.

"The briefcase is mine!" Tritter shouted.

"Not anymore!" Allison shouted back.

The battle was fierce, neither side winning or losing. It was only when Tritter got too close to Lisa and the briefcase that he was suddenly repelled. He flew back up into the sky, cursing.

"You may have won this battle," he snarled, kicking his flying motorbike into gear with a loud roar, "but you haven't won the war!"

As he left, the dark clouds that had gathered began to dissipate and the sun came back to warm the land. The Clinic Patients all came out of their hiding places, cautiously. Allison turned to Lisa, smiling warmly.

"You did very well," Allison praised, "I have complete faith in you. All you have to do is make your way to the Emerald City. There you shall meet the Wizard of Oz." Allison turned to the Clinic Patients. "Soon the land will be free of the Wicked Witch of the West! Lisa shall guide the way. Farewell!"

"Oh, wait!" Lisa cried, but Allison was already in her bubble, lifting up and away into the sky. Lisa stood there utterly forlorn.

"But how do I get to Emerald City? _Walk_?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Excuse me," mini Nurse Brenda tugged on Lisa's skirt, looking up at her with a smile. "You want to know the way to Emerald City?"

"Unfortunately," Lisa replied glumly. This did not bode well for Lisa. She hated walking long distances, especially in her heels. This thought prompted her to look down at her feet and she smiled when she realized she was wearing Mary Janes. At least, her subconscious overrode her vanity and dreamed up some sensible flats, although what did it matter if ultimately she was only dreaming?

Well, there was the fact that she could feel pain. That, she couldn't really explain so well.

Nurse Brenda, however, was not put off at Lisa's tone. The little nurse was still smiling widely, still ever the infectious courteous woman, (unlike the real Nurse Previn), "all you have to do is..." Nurse Brenda began to sing, "Follow the Jersey Turnpike." Then the other tiny clinic patient landers began to sing as well.

"Follow the Jersey Turnpike.  
Follow, follow, follow, follow,  
Follow the Jersey Turnpike."

During this song and dance routine, the little people guided Cuddy to the edge of their little town. The Turnpike stretched out long before her, all impossibly smooth black tar. It did not really look like the Jersey Turnpike at all, but once again, Cuddy wished she had a car.

Still, the song was catchy. It was difficult not to get caught up in their infectious mood and Lisa followed in, singing the song along with them. Somehow, she found it easy to sing along, somehow, she knew the lyrics. She was dredging up her childhood memories and some things, one just never forgets...

"Follow the Jersey, Follow the Jersey, Follow the Jersey Turnpike.  
You're off to see the Wizard, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.  
You'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz! If ever a Wiz! there was.  
If ever oh ever a Wiz! there was The Wizard of Oz is one because,  
Because, because, because, because, because.  
Because of the wonderful things he does.  
You're off to see the Wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

The little people of Clinic Patient Land waved vigorously, saying their goodbyes silently as they finished singing her off. Lisa laughed as she skipped down the road.

As far as dreams go, this wasn't half bad. She was almost wondering what her twisted mind would come up with next. If she recalled correctly, Dorothy Gale met up with the Scarecrow first, and since her dreaming brain had come up with this scenario, she wondered who she would cast into the role. It would have to be someone she knew... and knew well...

The sun was warm on her face, shining softly. A gentle, cool breeze ruffled through the trees on the side of the road. Right, the crossroads which only served to confuse Dorothy in the movie was now confusing Lisa. Looking around, she expected to see a scarecrow in the fields of wavy golden rods that resembled grain. Or were they cornstalks?

Cuddy frowned, biting her lip. Why did she care? It was only a dream; a bizarre creation of her tired mind. She approached the crossroads and sighed. Which way was the Emerald City? She could remember a few things about the movie, but which way Dorothy went was not one of them. Then again, Dorothy had followed the advice of the scarecrow, of whom Lisa just did not see.

Unsure of what to do, Lisa looked down at the dog. "Well, Toto. Which way do we go?"

The little dog looked up at her mournfully, only wagging his tail in reply.

Lisa sighed. "Right. Asking for directions from a dog. Lisa, have you lost your mind?"

Looking around at her surroundings, she really wished she could just wake up already. She was starting to think that she had lost her mind. Or she was lost in her mind. Either way lead Lisa to feel she was headed for the crazy. Unless she was already crazy. Maybe she was having a psychotic break, locked in a room that had no door handle on the inside, drugged to the gills. Halperidol to try and control the outward signs of insanity.

Lisa shook her head, laughing at herself. She hadn't been an actual doctor in years, despite her clinic room work, her Psych rotation had been quickly done and quickly forgotten, but here she was diagnosing herself and prescribing the treatment. She looked around at the sunny world, and smiled to herself. If this was what being crazy was like, she could have done worse.

Could have dreamed up a spa resort stay, but enacting a bizarre remake of "the Wizard of Oz" wasn't so bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Dr. Allison Cameron shined her penlight into Cuddy's eyes, before setting her stethoscope in place and listening to her breath sounds and heart beat. They had gotten her stabilized, but they didn't know what caused her collapse.

It broke Cameron's heart to see their tough dean of medicine lying there so vulnerable. The ventilator breathed for her, since she couldn't breathe alone.

"I'm not sure if you can hear me," Cameron spoke, "but... stay strong. We'll figure it out. You're in House's hands, and House has us. We'll... figure it out."

Cameron bit her lip, worried about Cuddy's awareness. Cuddy's Glasgow coma scale had been low. She had written on the patient chart for Cuddy the results: "GCS 5 = E2, V1t, M2," she looked at the clock on the wall and scrawled down the time as well.

But... 5 out of 15. Cameron hadn't expected Lisa to be able to say anything since she _was _intubated, which she had noted in the GCS calculation. While Cuddy had opened her eyes, it had been in response to the pain stimuli Cameron had applied to Lisa's sternum. Cameron had vigorously rubbed her knuckles into Lisa's sternum and to just receive a body flinch and those eyes opening only confirmed the dean was in a coma. It was a pretty deep one, but better than a three on the scale, or brain death. Cameron tried to stay positive. They would figure it out.

The door slid open, and Cameron turned to look. Wilson ducked his head in, all serious and yet so sweetly sheepish. "DDX," he said by way of starting the conversation. "House is being a jerk."

Cameron smiled, "House is always a jerk."

"Well, more of one than he usually is," Wilson said, slipping in and approaching the bed. Cameron slipped her pen back into her lab breast coat pocket and put the chart back in its place. "Just thought I'd warn you."

"Consider me warned," Cameron replied. She paused, putting her hand on Wilson's arm. She gave him a sad smile, and Wilson nodded. Cameron left Wilson to turn and regard the comatose form of Lisa Cuddy silently. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Lisa's smaller ones.

"Hey, Lisa," he spoke softly.

Lisa, quite obviously, did not reply.

He sat there a while, watching Lisa as she laid there. She looked almost peaceful, intubation apparatus notwithstanding. In the silence of the room, with only the whirr of the ventilator and the soft beeps of the machines that surrounded Lisa, designed to maintain her life, Wilson had never felt so alone as he did at that moment. The silence was too loud, and so Wilson opened his mouth and began to speak.

"I knew this girl, once, back in college. You kinda remind me of her. The same kind of beauty, strength and fortitude. She never backed down from a challenge…"

Meanwhile, House could be found in the DDX room. He stared at the file folder that rested on the long table at the head of which he sat. More specifically _glaring_ at the black messy scrawl across the placid yellow of the cardboard, as he rolled his cane between his fingers. _Vertigo_. Lisa had tried very hard to give him this message; he wasn't going to fail her.

The door opened and Cameron slipped in. "So glad you could join us," House snarked.

"Cuddy's stable," Cameron said, ignoring his pique. She settled a file down on the table, right in front of House. House flipped the folder open, keen blue eyes reading the results of Cameron's examination. Pushing the folder away, he stood, ignoring Chase as the Intensivist pulled the file toward himself and Foreman. Their heads bowed together over the file, one dark, one light. The contrast a lesson in dichotomy, but House wasn't looking to appreciate it.

_Vertigo_, House wrote on the DDX board. Intuitively, he also wrote, _Euphoria, muscle weakness_. He extrapolated that from the uncharacteristically sloppy handwriting and the tears on Cuddy's face. He closed his eyes, briefly, but the vision of Lisa's face near death came to him, and he opened his eyes again, breath hitching silently. His grasp on his cane tightened.

"Differential Diagnosis," he said, calmly. His voice came out ragged and gritty, but since his voice was always rough, he was reasonably certain the slight change would be missed. His mouth tightened as he saw Foreman look up at him, a slight flash of sympathy before it was schooled under Foreman's usual bland expression.

"Primary amoebic meningoencephalitis," Foreman suggested. His own near death experience was probably coming to mind. House wouldn't discount it, but he wasn't leaning toward it. "Swelling of the brain membranes would cause feelings of vertigo, euphoria, and muscle weakness."

"That fast?" Chase shook his head, "symptoms came on rapidly, according to Nurse Previn. Cuddy's condition deteriorated too quickly." Chase chewed on the end of his pencil for a second, "alcohol abuse? She did collapse right after lunch."

House snorted, "yeah, sure, Cuddy had a keg during lunch." House shook his head. He did understand where Chase was coming from. Cuddy had a high stress job, who knew how she dealt with it. Aside from him, that is. "Taking aside the fact that I know Cuddy to the point of practically stalking her-" Here, his ducklings just rolled their eyes, because they knew him so well and were utterly not surprised, "-Cuddy drinks maybe one glass a wine a day."

Cameron felt she had to contribute something, and made a spin on Chase's idea. "Cuddy does work in a hospital. Maybe she was exposed to a chemical, Ether, 2-Aminodyprydine, Nitrious Oxide. She could have been exposed to any of them in this hospital."

Foreman, to be contrary went with Chase's idea of stress being the cause of Cuddy's severe collapse. "Abdominal Aneurism. High stress job, ulcers, weakening of the artery wall leads to a burst, floods her system with chemicals causing vertigo, euphoria and muscle weakness and coma."

"Okay," House put a stop to the idea mongering. "It could be too many things. Foreman, ultrasound her belly, don't bother looking for babies; you won't find them. Cameron, run a tox screen, check for spikes in alkaloids, blood counts, the whole shebang. Chase, snoop in her office, look for environmental factors, the keg, and her itinerary. Re-trace her footsteps of this morning."

At the obvious dismissal, the Ducklings all rose to go. Cameron stopped at the door, "what about you, House?"

House looked up from where he had been staring at the carpet. He swallowed thickly, "I need to think."

The sympathy in Cameron's eyes was too much and he looked away. "Maybe you should go see Cuddy," she suggested softly, knowing House would make some snarky comment and generally refuse.

House seemed to pause in the moment. He looked away, then back to Cameron. He nodded, "okay."

Cameron blinked in surprise and nearly ran into the door on her way out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

After a moment's pause, Cuddy thought she could hear some talking in the distance, carried by the wind. Shrugging, since she couldn't find the "scarecrow" of the movie she had seen as a child and maybe wasn't meant to (it was a dream, after all, right?), she skipped off to find the source of the voice she could barely hear. Toto barked cheerfully as he followed, his quick trot easily overtaking Cuddy's and she smiled as the little dog darted off the path toward the coppice of trees.

"What do you mean you won't give me some apples?" Came an indignant voice. Cuddy's stomach promptly growled. Rubbing it ruefully, she reiterated to herself that it was just a dream, and therefore anything she ate in the dream couldn't actually soothe her hunger. Her stomach ignored her practicality, and continued its grumbling protest.

"I've watered you, pulled the weeds! You! You're taking advantage of me, that's what you're doing! I may only have half a brain, but I'm not stupid!"

Mystified, Cuddy finally cleared the brush and got her first clear view of the owner of the voice. A tall thin man in tattered clothing with rolled up sleeves and dirty hands shouting upwards at a tree. Cuddy moved to get a better look, perhaps someone was in the tree, because actually talking to a tree was crazy, right?

To her utter amazement, the tree quivered, like it was laughing. How she got that notion, she hadn't a clue, but the impression was so strong it had quite solidly taken root in her mind. Pardon the pun.

The man kicked the tree in his fit of pique. The tree extended a branch and smacked him. Hard.

"OW!"

Cuddy was momentarily stunned and horrified. Her nurturing instincts kicked in and she ran over in complete Doctor mode. "Oh my God, are you okay?" Then she got a surprise when she saw his face.

Wilson sat up, rubbing his cheek which had some scratches and a very large bruise beginning to blossom. "Oh, hello!" He beamed, "are you an angel?"

Despite herself, Cuddy smiled back, "no. I'm just… lost. Here, don't move, let me see to that." She examined the injury and concluded that there wasn't much she could do. Then she just got angry. Standing up, she turned to face the tree.

"Hey, what kinda tree are you, beating up a poor defenceless man! You, you… you termite infested hunk of wood!" As far as insults go, this probably wasn't Cuddy's best. But then again, how do you insult a tree?

The tree stiffened stock still, then branches quivered and drew back, like a pitcher winding up for a throw. Cuddy felt a brief moment of one whom, upon having done something completely stupid, has a moment of utter acknowledgement of the magnitude of said stupid thing, before she swooped down and yanked Wilson to his feet. Awkwardly, the man stumbled after her just as the first launch of the ballista blew. The ammo? Apples. Gloriously crisp, crunchy, hard as rocks when thrown with malicious force, delicious apples.

After the battle, for it had been a battle, Cuddy sat up against the boulder behind which she and Wilson had taken refuge. _Yup_, she thought. _That went well_.

"Apples!" Wilson beamed, holding up several slightly worse for the wear of the aforementioned produce. "I haven't eaten in days! How generous of the trees to have given so many to us!"

Cuddy stared at him as he happily bit into one. "Right," she drawled out. "Generous." She watched him devour the apple in short work, and while he was working on the second one, she finally thought to introduce herself.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Cuddy exclaimed. "I'm Doctor Lisa Cuddy."

Wilson sat up, a smile crossing his face. Cuddy wasn't sure she liked that particular smile. It looked far too cheerful and slightly manic for her tastes. Pressing off against the boulder, Wilson clambered to his feet, cleared his throat and began to… yes, you guessed it, sing.

"I could do complex equations, for any situation,  
Math wouldn't be a pain.  
I'd be dividin' and subtractin', I'd be timsin', I'd be addin'  
If my brain were only whole.  
All the world's problems, I'll bet you I could solve them,  
If I had a whole brain."

Lisa couldn't resist commenting, the devil in her having had far too much to deal with today, "you have half a brain? It seems like half the people I work with have that problem…"

"Oh, I don't have a problem a'readin' and a'writin'.  
I could tell a story that's frightin',  
That's more scary when there's lightnin'.  
There's a hole in my head, I wish I were dead,  
The cancer's to blame!  
Right now, life is pretty droll; I'd be a happy soul  
If my brain were only whole."

Interesting twist, Cuddy thought to herself. "Oh, you had cancer? I know a doctor back at Princeton-Plainsboro who could have helped you. In fact, you almost remind me of him."

Wilson paused, blinking. His lips curved involuntarily in a wry smile, "is that so?"

"Yes," Cuddy nodded, solemnly.

A cute wrinkle formed between Wilson's eyebrows as he frowned in consternation, a plaintive request springing from his mouth, "where's Princeton-Plainsboro?"

"It's where I work. And I need to get back there, so I'm going all the way to the Emerald City to get the Wizard of Oz to help me." Cuddy explained.

"Do you think that this Wizard person could make my brain whole again?

"I honestly don't know. But if he didn't, it's not like you'd be any worse off."

"I suppose that's true." Wilson nodded, thoughtfully. Then his face slackened into an pleading expression, "please, I won't cause any trouble, I can make my own food, and I'm fairly hopeless at management with only my right brain. Can I come along with you?"

Cuddy wouldn't have it any other way. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to have some company."

"Thank you so much! I can't wait to meet the Wizard!" Wilson beamed and his expression was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Cuddy smiled.

"Overly-excitable, aren't you?"

Chagrinned, Wilson apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't used to be like this, you know."

_Somehow_, Cuddy thought to herself as they collected viable apples, storing them in her purloined briefcase before orienting themselves and making for the Emerald City. _I did know._

_

* * *

_I'm not one of those authors who demand reviews and withhold chapters to get such reviews, but if there's something that could be changed about this story, please let me know. I'm getting the feeling that it's not pulling in reader interest and I would appreciate any constructive criticism on improving the story. Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Cuddy was too predictable, House thought to himself as he helped himself to the spare key Cuddy had probably thought she was so clever in hiding. Letting himself in Cuddy's house, he gave the entry way a once over. Nothing of interest to him there. Shutting the door, he crossed the foyer, his cane a counterpoint to his limping steps. He poked around in the kitchen, checking under the sink. Perfectly clean, if a little dusty. Cuddy was obviously too busy to cook, if the takeout orders tacked to the fridge were any sort of clue.

The life of a doctor. The first casualty was usually home-cooked meals.

The bathroom was much more extravagantly set up. Quite large for a bathroom too, and House knew Cuddy spent quite a bit of time in here. Having a relaxing soak in the tub with a glass of wine, (champagne on special occasions) and a steamy harlequin. She didn't always take her work home with her. He opened the bath salts, the bubbles, and the shampoo. Nothing smelled out of order with any of them. In fact, they were the scents he often smelled on Cuddy. Under the sink in the bathroom yielded a cornucopia of feminine things, but nothing out of place. No fungus, spores or bacteria infested the place. He looked up to the ceiling and saw a few spots of yellow where steam had collated and stained the paint.

He wrinkled his mouth in a disabused frown, opening the medicine cabinet. There he saw a carton of Midol for feminine distress, a box of tampons, small bag of feminine napkins, a bottle of extra strength tylenol. A jar of vapour rub and how so very interesting: a box of pregnancy tests. Maybe there was something to his theory that Cuddy was pregnant, or trying to be anyway.

Bathroom was a bust, aside from the interesting tidbit that pretty much confirmed his theory for the past few weeks. If Cuddy were pregnant though… It wouldn't account for the euphoria or the muscle weakness. Just in case, however, he would test a sample of her urine when he got back to the hospital.

Bedroom was next and House took a few moments to enjoy rifling through her panty drawer, because he was a guy and it would be weird if he didn't.

If Cuddy had any huge secrets, she didn't keep them in her home.

Making his way to the front door, House shut and locked it again. House was starting to think that whatever secrets were behind Cuddy's collapse, they weren't her secrets. Which meant-

"You're under arrest for breaking and entering, trespassing on private property."

"I have a key," House snorted.

"And resisting arrest."

"Oh, for crying out loud."

Tritter just gave him a creepy-assed smirk. House rolled his eyes. "Will you let me walk to your cruiser with my cane this time, or are you feeling particularly sadistic tonight?"

"I can be generous," Tritter smirked as he turned to escort House to his cruiser like some demented senior high schooler with his date for the prom. Which certainly did not make House some besotted chick in a ball gown.

At the precinct, House employed his God and State given rights to his one phone call.

"Cameron."

"Cameron, how's Cuddy?"

"Wilson's sitting with her now, because you obviously never made it to her bedside. Where are you?"

House frowned at the wall. "I'm in jail."

A long silent pause.

"Tritter picked me up at Cuddy's house. I used her spare key to get in, but he's still calling it B and E."

"House. I said go and see Cuddy, not break into Cuddy's house."

"Whatever, come bail me out. Before five o'clock if you can."

"Why the time limit?"

"'Cause that's when the bail office close for the day and I'll have to stay overnight, which, Cameron, would suck, 'cause I can't save Cuddy's life if I'm in slam."

"You should have thought of that before you broke into Cuddy's house, House." Then she hung up, leaving House to stare at the phone, disgruntled.

Tritter's hand took the phone from him and hung it up in the cradle. "Let's talk."

"Let's not and say we did, bosom buddy."

Tritter paused mid-step and shot House a look of horror. House shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Let's pretend I didn't say that, even if I was being sarcastic."

"Done." Tritter opened a door into an interrogation room. Even if the placard on the door said interview room, House knew better. Beware all ye who enter here.

"Take a seat." Tritter turned off the tape recorder, moved to the camera in the upper corner of the room and unplugged it. House began to have a no good, very, very bad feeling about this. With a casual move that he did not feel, he pulled back a chair and sat down. Tritter smirked and sat down opposite him.

"How's Doctor Cuddy?" Tritter asked.

House blinked. What the-? "She's fine." He lied. "Probably tap dancing with my minions over the fact that I'm in jail. How's your gargoyle?"

Tritter's turn to blink. "I don't have a…" then he shook himself. "Interesting to hear about Cuddy's unfortunate… collapse."

"I'd be interested in knowing how you know about that."

Tritter lifted a shoulder, affecting an air of unconcern. "I have my sources. And then I have my… sources."

"All this double talk is starting to confuse me."

Tritter growled. "You're a bully."

"Takes one to know one," House shot back.

"You're a bully, and I teach bullies lessons. You see, bullies taint everything they touch. Their words hurt, their action or inaction leads to consequences for other people and somehow they get away scot-free. It's your fault Cuddy's dying."

House looked up at that. "My fault?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yeah," Tritter said, leaning close. "Your fault." Tritter leaned back, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Probably, in his near empty head, he didn't. House just stared at him, his mind working a mile a minute. He was listening to Tritter's confession, he was pretty damn sure. It was also obvious that Tritter hadn't read the Evil Overlord's List. Fortunately, House had the previous pleasure.

"My fault, that Cuddy's dying?" House parroted with a numb voice.

Tritter looked at him like he was particularly dull.

"It was obvious that she would do everything in her power to shelter you. She's your enabler. Your solve rates make her look good, even if everything else about you didn't. If I got rid of her, then you'd have no one to protect you against the consequences of your actions.

"There was only one small problem with my plan. I poisoned her in a hospital. Of course, that implies that maybe I didn't actually want her dead, but I don't think I'm that complicated."

Poison. That certainly narrowed the list down.

"Oh," House replied, "don't sell yourself short. You're a plenty complicated man."

"Regardless," Tritter watched House. "You'll cure her and she'll be back to protecting you again. Unless… Something more permanent is arranged."

"Ominous," House remarked.

"I think you can be reasonable when you want to. I've shown you my power. All you have to do is… do the right thing. Make yourself the right choice. Not just for you, but for everyone you know. For Cuddy."

"You're a bastard," House retorted, rubbing his leg. It was aching. "Not only are you a bastard, but you're insane."

"It's a pretty good deal," Tritter said. "Think about it. Call me in twenty-four hours with your decision."

House said nothing. There was a knock on the door. Tritter frowned and stood. He plugged the camera back in then opened the door. Tritter frowned, then looked at House.

"Get up. Your bail is here."


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this chapter is so short. It's more transitionary than anything, but I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

"The Bail House Out of Jail jar must be running on empty," House joked as he saw Foreman waiting for him. Foreman's eyebrows popped up briefly. House's jaw dropped. "There actually is a jar?"

Foreman had the grace to look sheepish. "It was Wilson's idea," Foreman tattled.

Retrieving his possessions, House pocketed them and whacked Foreman's shins with his cane on the way out. Punishment delivered, he demanded gruffly, "tell me about the case."

Foreman limped out after him, "Cuddy's still stable. No signs of ruptures or bleeds in her belly, so it's not an abdominal aneurism. Cameron's running the labs and Chase reports nothing of concern in her office. He did, however say that one of the nurses saw Cuddy having lunch with our favourite law enforcement officer."

House levered himself into the passenger's side of Foreman's car, waiting as Foreman got in and started the car. "I know," House said. "Tritter told me. He also told me that he poisoned Cuddy."

Foreman slammed his foot on the breaks before he even really started to pull out of the parking space. House let the abrupt stop bob his head like a bobble-head doll while shooting a withering look at Foreman. "What? Why didn't-"

House watched Foreman catch a ride on the clue bus. "Yeah, what proof do I have? My word against his. But at least we know where to start looking now."

The look on Foreman's face was one of distaste that was slowly turning to fury. House recalled that Foreman had no love lost for police officers. With more force than strictly necessary, Foreman shifted the gear into drive. Then he took a deep breath and turned the wheel with forced calm. House watched the proceedings with interest.

Between gritted teeth, Foreman said, "he can be dead in so many ways."

"Sentiment noted," House replied, dryly. His idea of revenge was far more sweeter than anything Foreman could come up with, however. But that would have to wait. He had to save Cuddy's life first.

Opening his cell phone, he called Cameron. "House?"

"Cameron, stop the presses. It's a poison. Start testing the ones that are odourless and tasteless. Where's the Wombat?"

"Hold on a moment." There was a beep. Presumably, Cameron was turning on the speaker-phone. There was a strange echo after the beep that confirmed his suspicions.

"I'm here, House." Chase's wonderful English voice came on the line. "And I'm Australian."

"Same difference," House snarked, not even surprised whenever Chase seemed to know what he was thinking anymore. "I need you to monitor Cuddy's heart. Page me the instant it does something it's not supposed to do."

If Chase was surprised by this order, it didn't show in his voice. "Will do, House." Footsteps sounded as Chase walked away.

"Anything else, House?" Cameron asked, her voice accompanied with the tinkle of test tubes, and the whirr of a centrifuge. House answered by hanging up.

As he watched the scenery go by, the sun hanging low in the sky, and Foreman still steamed, but driving with a competent air, House considered his options. They were few. This whole mess with Tritter left him with very few avenues for revenge, and not a lot of leeway in the judicial system to enact it. He needed help, and only with someone he could trust.

Flipping his cellphone to face him again, he took an unneeded breath as he dialled a number he never thought he'd call.

"Stacy? Don't hang up. Got a legal question for ya. …How do you prove attempted murder?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Author's note: Just a tiny one. Credits for the smutty Huddy scene goes to Gundam Delta 6. While I am no slouch at writing sex scenes, Delta 6 was the best choice to write it because she is a rabid Huddy fangirl and I was kinda afraid I'd lose a hand if I tried to butt in. *vbg*

The sun started to set when Wilson stumbled suddenly and bumped into Cuddy. Cuddy tripped over Toto and the little dog let out a startled yelp. The briefcase flew out her hand and landed with a thump on the grassy knoll. The comedy of errors quickly straightened itself out when Cuddy saw another tall, thin and familiar man gaping at the briefcase at his feet. Chastened, Cuddy quickly grabbed the case, holding it close to her chest. "I- I'm Lisa Cuddy," she stammered. "This is Wilson, and Toto."

Those impossible blue eyes bore into her and she shivered to the very marrow of her bones. Then the piercing look grew shuttered and the man leaned both hands on his cane with a casual air. "I suppose I had better start," he said. Then he began to sing.

"As a man without a heart, I can't quite play the part

Of Mr. Right-Don't start

With that 'I'm assumin' that you're wishing you were human,'

'Cause that's just off the chart.

I'm not 'tender' - I'm not 'gentle' and I don't do 'sentimental'

Though I'm a master of musical art.

I'm a man like any other... though because my past's a bother,

I do not need a heart.

"Seriously, though - not kidding. It's all because of her."

"House?" Cuddy whispered, looking at the man before her. He looked like House, but the change was there. Subtle, but there. "No…You're too open to be House…"

House looked up with a suddenly boyish look in his eyes, "it's me, Cuddy...How could you think otherwise?" He added a little pout, before he began singing again.

"Just because I hide emotions like jealousy and devotion,

And don't really feel the part,

You think I'm not the same, or there's a problem with my brain,

Because I don't have a heart."

Cuddy stood watching him for a long moment after the song had trailed to an end. Shaking her head free of her reverie, she thought back to his comment. "Good question." It was her dream after all. "You know, if you want, you can come with us to the Emerald City. Maybe the Wizard of Oz could give you a heart."

"If I say 'no, I'll just stay here', what would happen?"

"Nothing, House, because you're coming anyway. This is my dream, and what I say goes."

Wilson beamed and waved with jocularity at House and the other man merely accepted the gesture with a nod. Cuddy linked her arm through his, smiling at him. House took a moment to smile back, the fondness apparent in his eyes.

"You know, if you wanted to go to the Emerald City," House said casually, "it's that way," he pointed toward a direction that was to the left of where Wilson was guiding Cuddy.

Wilson, for lack of a better term, _wilted_. Fascinated, Cuddy watched House reassure Wilson that he had done a good job guiding Cuddy, of course, up until now, because he had led them to him. Wilson bounced back to good cheer so quickly, Cuddy looked around for the yo-yo string.

"It's getting pretty dark," Cuddy said, "we should find a place to rest for the night."

"Nights don't last very long in the OZ," House said, "but you're right, we should find a place to rest. It's still quite a long way to the Emerald City."

Wilson was quite in agreement with this idea and started looking for suitable shelter. He wandered off, almost out of sight, and Toto darted off to make sure he didn't get lost.

House saw an opportunity and seized it. They were at a fork in the road, and Cuddy was standing at the V, looking both ways, quite obviously weighing the pros and cons of each route. Setting his trademark smirk in place, he walked up behind her, thankful for the near lack of noise the rubber tip of his cane produced against the black tar of the Turnpike. Eternally thankful that she hadn't yet noticed his presence, he pressed himself up against her back, quickly raising his hand to block her gasp.

He did not want Wilson noticing this.

House's need was evident against the small of Cuddy's back, and she wanted to moan, but with his hand over her mouth, it wouldn't make much difference. Instead, she pressed herself back against him, almost jumping when he spoke softly behind her, his head bent low so that his breath ghosted across the sensitive skin of her ear.

"We have to talk...I don't want Wilson to hear." Nodding as best as she was able, Cuddy sighed softly as House finally took his hand away from her mouth, taking her by the hand instead and leading her off the Turnpike into the trees nearby. Once he was sure they were out of sight should Wilson happen to look around, he pinned Cuddy to a tree, her back pressed against the scratchy wood of the trunk.

Cuddy opened her mouth to start talking, but anything she could have said was instantly cut off as a hot kiss was pressed to her lips, House's tongue exploring her mouth as she leaned against the tree, unwilling and unable to stop him. Her eyes slid closed and she'd just begun to kiss him back when he pulled away. Electric blue eyes bored into hers as the silence around them thickened. Neither one seemed willing to speak. Until Cuddy found her voice again.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion as she gazed up at House. He shrugged.

As if it explained everything, he answered simply, "Because you wanted me to." Cuddy just looked even more confused at that, so House rolled his eyes and elaborated. "This is your fantasy land, Lisa. Whatever you want to happen...it's pretty much gonna happen. You wanted me to kiss you like that. It's what you've always wanted. You just can't get me to do it in the real world...unless this is the real world. In which case, you got me." He smirked.

"This...none of this is real...That isn't the real Wilson out there staring at butterflies and clouds. This isn't the real you...doing whatever it is you're doing..." Cuddy tried to explain, though she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, herself or House.

"Lisa... Lisa...you say none of this is real. But it feels real." House leaned closer to Cuddy. "My breath against your cheek..." he whispered, moving to slide his lips across hers, barely touching. "My lips against yours..." He pulled back, gazing down into her eyes, pressing his body closer to hers. "This...This aching need...feels so real. I feel so real...yet you claim that I am not." She didn't seem immediately inclined to answer him, so he did the only thing he could think of. He leaned down and captured her lips again, gently parting her lips with his tongue.

This did feel real, and Cuddy wanted it. She couldn't deny it, but she would never confirm it aloud. House's lips left hers and his body heat faded. Refusing to open her eyes, afraid that the dream had ended, she was slightly surprised to hear the sound of rustling cloth. Her eyelids twitched, and a soft voice stilled them.

"No. Don't look, just hear my voice...feel my touch..feel how real all of this seems..." She was pulled away from the tree briefly, and her eyes flew open as she was lifted and pressed back against the tree trunk. House kissed her again, slowly, gently, lovingly. "Close your eyes," he whispered against her lips. "Let yourself feel how real I am...How real you want me to be." It was only in the split second before she let her eyes slip shut again that she realized his cane had been discarded at some point.

Cuddy shivered as House's hands drew her legs around his waist, helping to support her as he pressed himself closer, ever closer. She whimpered when she realized what he was about to do, and she debated opening her eyes to see the look on his face as he entered her. Raw desire won out, and she opened her eyes only to be met head on with crystal clear baby blues that slid shut as he leaned in again. Raising her arms to wrap them around House's neck, she moaned against his lips as she felt herself being filled.

What she wouldn't give to have this back in Jersey... But she knew it could never happen, so she set herself to enjoy what she had here. Cuddy pressed herself closer to House, tightening her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper, faster, breaking their kiss on a groan when he started to move. She let him, meeting each thrust as best as she could, pulling his head down again for another kiss. Nothing in the world had ever felt so right to Cuddy, and as she leaned back against the tree for support as House drove himself into her, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to leave Oz.

House was trailing kisses down her neck, and she leaned her head back against the tree trunk, moaning out her appreciation of the sensations he was causing her to feel.

"Mmmm, Lisa. Lisa..." House panted against the hollow where her shoulder met her neck. "Lisa..." He was so close, so very close... "God, Lisa..." he groaned, pressing feather-light kisses back up her throat to claim her lips once more. Moaning in utter satisfaction when she met his kiss in full force, he swallowed her moans and gasps as she came, and he followed her over the edge, keeping her pinned to the tree until both of them came back to their senses.

He had just set her back on her feet when the bushes rustled near them. Cuddy shifted closer to House, her eyes widening slightly as she held her breath.

Wilson stepped into the tiny clearing, and Cuddy let out her breath in a heavy sigh.

"What are you guys doing all the way over here? I was worried about you...I thought some monster had caught you!"

"We were..." Cuddy started, blushing profusely.

"Talking," House finished with a straight face. Cuddy would have turned to stare at him, but she figured that would seem suspicious. Wilson had half a brain...he wasn't stupid.

"Oh. Okay. Let's go...I think I found a good spot to stay." That being said, Wilson turned to walk back the way he had come, House following. Cuddy blinked as she followed after House, wondering where his cane had come from. Shaking her head, she decided not to ponder on that for too long. She'd just been taken against a tree; anything was possible in the merry old land of Oz.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

House shuffled into Cuddy's hospital room. He was beyond tired, but he couldn't sleep even if he wanted to. He had sent Foreman to assist Cameron in the lab while he had gone on ahead. Wilson was there, like a loyal sentry, holding Cuddy's hand. Chase was monitoring her heart rate, a silent strength to a fading light. House leaned against the door jamb and his cane, feeling the weight of a long day on his shoulders and a long night that waited.

Nodding to Wilson as the other man looked up, House limped closer to her bedside. "Her stats?"

Wilson shot him an exasperated look. "She's holding stable so far, but until we figure out what's causing this, she's not out of the woods yet."

House nodded. Then he shot Chase a look. "Take Wilson and get something to drink. I'll take over here."

Chase nodded, turning to leave the room, standing at the door to wait for Wilson. Wilson stood with a groan, having been sitting for so long.

"House…"

"It'll be okay, Wilson."

They exchanged a silent glance for a moment, their emotionally charged expressions doing all the communication for each other. Wilson nodded and left.

Turning to Cuddy, House sat in the seat vacated by Wilson. Slipping his hand in hers, he tried to speak. "Cuddy, it's me." He swallowed thickly, trying to get past the strange lump in his throat. "I know what happened. I swear to you, we're working on it. We're gonna find the antidote and we're gonna cure you. You're gonna wake up, and everything will be…" he stopped speaking, because his voice started to come out sounding strange, and there was a stinging in his eyes that was unfamiliar. He leaned close to Cuddy's face, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin of her forehead.

"I don't want it to be too late, so you hold on. Lisa, you hold on, because… because I love you. I need you to wake up and smile at me and tell me you love me too." House didn't care in that moment how sappy he sounded. He didn't care that he sounded like a love song, or the lead role in one of Cuddy's sappy harlequin novels. All he cared about was Cuddy.

Suddenly, an alarm begin to blare out, and he looked up to the monitor to see runs of tachycardia before her heart gave out. "No!" He started compressions. "You stay with me, Lisa! Stay with me!"

Chase and Wilson ran in. They hadn't gone far, it seemed, and nurses flooded the room, bringing in crash carts. Chase looked at the monitors and ordered a round of heart stimulating drugs. Injecting the heart stimulators in her iv. Chase firmly took over compressions, while Wilson gently pulled House away. The nurses sacrificed Cuddy's modesty to apply the shock pads, and Chase ordered the defibrillator to be charged to three fifty.

Distraught, House could only stare at Cuddy, silently pleading with her to stay. He couldn't take it if she left him now.

"Clear!" Chase hollered before he applied the electrical shock to stimulate Cuddy's heart back into normal sinus. All personnel surrounding Cuddy stepped back, raising their hands. Cuddy's body jerked briefly. Anguished, House shut his eyes at the sight.

"Normal sinus, Doctor."

Everyone in the room shared a sigh of relief. Chase nodded to the nurses. "Good work, everyone." In short order, Cuddy was cleaned up, and Wilson guided a numbed House to a chair close to her. The shock was beginning to wear off, and House felt the adrenaline buzzing through his veins, far more potent than a cup of coffee or a douse of ice cold water.

"Please don't do that again, Cuddy," House said to her, heedless of Wilson and Chase's hearing. They kindly let the moment pass without comment. House was grateful, but of course, he didn't show it.

Cuddy lay in the bed, showing no signs of her earlier distress. Peaceful in her coma. House hoped that she hadn't been aware of her near death experience. It was a thought too awful to contemplate; being trapped in unconsciousness and knowing it, and not being able to do anything about it.

Just didn't bear thinking on at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Author's note: Planning this scene was hilarious. It went something like this:

Meg: Wombat!Chase should stumble into them this time around.  
Delta 6: Ooo, like Wombat!Chase stumbling into their campsite?  
Meg: Yes! Wombat!Chase: Baby, it's cold outside!  
Hotaruchan: I'll warm you up, baby!  
Delta 6: And he should totally be all -depressed wandering- and Wilson should be all "awwww wassamatta?"  
Meg: I'm thinking of putting in slight undertones of slash between Wombat!Chase and Scatterbrain!Wilson.  
Meg: YES!  
Meg: You and I SHARE THE SAME BRAIN!  
Meg: alksjdfh  
Delta 6: oooo dooooooo iiiiiiiiiiittttt!  
Hotaruchan: -sighs- you and your yaoi.

Well. You get the idea.

* * *

Cuddy was a city girl, through and through. She didn't know how to start fires without a match, paper, wood and a fireplace and a fire-starter. Luckily, Wilson still retained the parts of his brain that enabled him to remember how to find sources needed to create a safe outdoors campfire. Wilson gallantly gathered all the firewood and explained how to construct the pit in which they could safely light up the wood. Oh, and House assisted.

Unfortunately for Wilson's perception, what really happened was he had haphazardly gathered the wood, several numerous long sticks and quite unintentionally smacked them against House's head several times as he pranced around enthusiastically. House quickly took the large rocks from Wilson's hands before he could do something deadly with them.

The final straw had been his idiotic prattling on while House was futilely trying to light the slightly damp wood.

Cuddy rescued a bewildered Wilson from House's irate shouting while the heartless man finished working on building and starting the fire. She soothed the halfwit from the verge of tears as he insisted that he was only trying to help.

Things settled down as the fire was successfully started and they shared in a meal of apples. "Tomorrow," House said, "we'll likely get close enough to the river that runs near the Emerald City. I'll catch some fish."

"Fish sounds great," Cuddy sighed, rubbing her arms. Wilson nodded in agreement, his eyes wide and happy. Cuddy was almost envious of his easy manner, until she thought of how his manner had come about, and then she couldn't help but be thankful that she still had all her faculties about her. Living life with only half a brain. The poor man.

The fire was crackling merrily and warmed them in more ways than physical. Its bright light drove back the darkness and shone like a beacon of hope in the night. Cuddy sat up. She thought she saw something move in the shadows.

"House…" she murmured, staring out blindly past the fire into the dark woods. House looked over to her and frowned, following the line of her sight.

"What is it?"

"I saw something move."

Wilson perked up, sensing the undertones of caution in their voices. His face grew fearful. "What? Is it a monster? I don't like monsters! They rip my clothes and try to eat me."

Cuddy wrapped an arm around Wilson, "hey, it's okay. House and I won't let anything hurt you."

There was a loud sharp crack and shrubbery shook and parted. A very blond man/creature stumbled into the firelight. He had great hair. Really, really great hair. And a very strong resemblance to Chase. A great gusty sigh escaped his pouting lips and he cast woeful eyes upon their party. He sighed again.

"'M not a monster," he said, feelingly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No," House agreed. "You're a wombat. Not scary at all."

Chase sighed again, and Wilson melted against Cuddy's side. Cuddy looked in surprise at Wilson. He had been scared stiff as a board just a moment ago. His emotional yo-yo-ing was going to give her whiplash. His gaze was settled on Chase and had a distinctly caring expression Cuddy recognized from her Wilson with his cancer patients.

"Why are you so sad?" Wilson blurted out, his eyes just full of his emotional empathy.

Chase looked up at Wilson and sighed again. Then he drew himself up, cleared his throat and began to sing.

"Oh, it's tragic, my dear friend, when you'll go to every end  
And be labeled a disgrace.  
My father never loved me, my mother thought not of me  
And my boss is a nutcase."

House looked up at that and glared at Chase.

"I'm afraid that for an Aussie," Chase sang. House stood and cut in.

"You're really rather saucy…" He so did not appreciate being called insane.

Chase glared at House for interrupting his song, but kept singing. "I'll punch you in your face!" Then his expression grew wistful, "I'll somehow prove my worth…"

"I'll appreciate the curves…." House sang, gazing lustfully at Cuddy. Cuddy blushed.

Wilson sang hopefully, "I'd be able to observe…."

"If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve." Cuddy put in her soft voice.

Wilson:  
Then he's sure to fix my brain,

House:  
My heart,

Cuddy:  
Wake up…,

Chase:  
Love me…

The quiet mood that fell over them was broken when Wilson crossed over to Chase and dragged him closer to the fire. "Sit, sit with us," Wilson said cheerfully. "Would you like an apple? They're really quite delicious!"

Chase looked up into Wilson's eyes and he managed to dredge up a little smile from somewhere. "Oh, thank you."

"I'm Wilson!"

"Chase."

"She's Cuddy, he's Toto, and I'm House. Now we're all friendly." House snarked. He watched the two of them. Watched as Wilson handed Chase an apple with a moronic expression of droopy caring. He rolled his eyes at the overly saccharine display.

Cuddy saw House's expression and she felt a little sad. If he didn't think much of the emotional connection Wilson was forming with Chase, did what happen between the two of them earlier mean anything to him? She wished she could get some reassurance from him, but he seemed so unapproachable now, across the firelight. The firelight that had flickered so warmly across his face earlier now seemed to cast dark shadows that only heightened the dour expression. She yawned. Maybe in the light of day, things would be better.

As she settled by the fire, drowsing slowly into sleep, she saw Wilson snuggle up into Chase's fur for warmth and smiled fondly at the sight. Heartened by the visual, she drifted to dreams and was only dimly aware of a light, tender touch on her hand which gave her feelings of being loved.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

House looked up from his scrutiny of some fine hairs on Cuddy's arm to see Stacy standing on the other side of the glass. His memory brought the phone call back to him.

"House…" Stacy had sighed over the phone line, "maybe you had better start at the beginning." House explained in some detail the events of the day and when he was finished, Stacy had been quiet for a long moment. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

House's keen eyes darted over to Wilson chatting quietly with Chase. Chase saw him, and nodded. He'd keep an eye on Cuddy.

As he rose, House brushed two fingertips across the back of Cuddy's hand in silent farewell. Quietly sliding the door open, he closed it before he greeted Stacy. "Stacy."

"House." Stacy sighed. She looked a little tired, but more together than she had the last time he had seen her.

"You look good."

"House-"

"No, I'm just saying that," House interrupted. "What we had, it's in the past. Let's leave it there."

"Okay," Stacy finally said after a long pause. She nodded. "Okay."

Wanting to shift the moment from the uncomfortable atmosphere it had undertaken, House started to walk and Stacy fell into step with him. "I want to beat the bastard at his own game," House started. "Anything that I would usually do… it's too good for him."

Stacy was silent for a moment, then she spoke. "I still have valid credentials for consultancy through PPTH. I could wear a wire, talk to Tritter, then present the evidence, if I gain any, over to the authorities. I would be considered a credible witness."

"You'd do that?"

"I do do that," she replied with a smile. "But yes. You're you, and Lisa's a friend. I should also talk to the head of security. It's still Vince Minnelli, right?" At House's shrug, Stacy nodded, "right, okay. Have you slept yet?"

House ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at the bristles of his five o'clock shadow. Though it was much later than five o'clock; he would need to shave at some point before he grew a beard. "No, but I'm fine. I can't sleep; I have to make sure my minions don't forget how to find their asses with both hands."

Stacy shot him a look that reminded him she could always see through his deflections. But telling his ex-girlfriend that he couldn't sleep because he was worried about his friend with whom he was in love? _Awkward_.

She laid a soft hand on his arm, "seriously, Greg. Get some sleep. I don't feel bad in telling you that you look awful."

"Gee, thanks."

Stacy shook her head and smiled, turning to walk to the security office. House watched her go. He finally started to feel like he was getting a handle on everything. The wheels on Operation Revenge on Tritter were in motion. The trap was set. Tritter wouldn't know what hit him.

House paused. He'd missed a great opportunity to joke with Stacy at her expense. Damn, he was slipping.

Vincent Minnelli was a tall, wiry man with sharp eyes and a no nonsense demeanour. The kind of man Stacy liked in the security business. "Vince," she greeted.

"Stacy. Staying long?"

"Just for the case. I have a husband masquerading as a big baby I'll have to get back home to soon."

Minnelli quirked a lip in wry amusement. "Here's the report on the incident. Doctor Cuddy's movements, the people she spoke to, how long she spoke to them, where she went. Everything."

"As thorough as always," Stacy accepted the file appreciatively. "One other thing. Would you be willing to be my backup in a little information gathering exercise?"

Intrigued, Minnelli's eyebrow arched up despite himself.

* * *

In room 101 where Cuddy lay in critical care, Chase and Wilson were discussing, speculating, really about House's sudden obvious affection for Cuddy.

"I wouldn't say it's sudden, really," Wilson mused. "House has always had a thing for her. He's just never acted on it."

Chase nodded in agreement, "he's always kept his tender feelings close to the vest. We all know his thoughts on everything else, like his bitter, bitter misanthropy toward people in general, but in retrospect, his love for Cuddy seems clear as a bell."

Wilson frowned in interest, "really? How so?"

The fellow shrugged, "in the way that he was always the mean boy picking on Cuddy, pulling her pigtails. We mustn't forget that House is about as mature as a five year old."

Wilson's lips tipped up in an amused smile, "that observation is very astute."

"Still, though," Chase started, then paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

Wilson waited, patiently, but his patience was always a little transient when it came to hearing Chase's thoughts. He poked Chase in the flank, "penny for your thoughts?"

Chase laughed. "Just thinking about the other side of the coin." At Wilson's mystified expression, Chase explained, "does Cuddy share House's feelings?"

Wilson leaned back, "yes, that is the burning question. Certainly, Cuddy doesn't act like a woman in love with her annoying subordinate, but then again, the mere fact that she's put up with House all these years… res ipsa loquitor."

The evidence speaks for itself. Chase quite agreed. The various hijinks House had gotten himself into would have exasperated any other administrator, any other but Cuddy. Cuddy's rope of patience with House was at once exceedingly long, and very short. Thinking back, it was quite the spectacle of well balanced juggling between her exasperation and admiration, because it was inevitable that whatever House did to annoy her, he would redeem himself by discovering the remarkable.

"Speaking of Cuddy's heart," Chase said, and in a roundabout way they had been, "we're not out of the woods yet, but it's going pretty steady."

But Wilson wasn't listening. "Did you see that?"

"What?"

"Her e.e.g outputs. It changed. For a second there, I thought she was waking up."

Interested, Chase leaned forward. "Cuddy? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." Chase's eyes remained glued to the e.e.g monitor. There was no change. Disheartened, he sat back, canting his eyes back onto the e.c.g readouts for her heart. "House and the others will figure it out," Chase said to Wilson. "She'll be right as rain sooner rather than later."

"Careful, Chase, your optimism might be catching."

"I've got a few things that might be catching," Chase quipped back, before realizing just what he had said. Blushing a bit, he was quick to apologize, "ah, not being vain or vulgar or anything."

Wilson was just amused.


	13. Chapter 13

"House, I look forward to the destruction of your hospital and every hospital around it. I have been waiting for this day my whole life. You will die, your ducklings will die, Meg the fierce lady will die. You will all die." -Tritter, the pretend blooper reel behind the Meg the fierce lady's story scenes. Or something. (Credit goes to Nu!Star Trek gag reel, of course).

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

No sooner than she had closed her eyes, it seemed, she was waking up to bright sunlight and the quiet noise of breaking camp. House was the first to notice. "Good morning, sunshine."

Groaning, Cuddy sat up. "I suppose it would be futile to ask for coffee?"

"Sorry, darlin'. You'll have to wait until we get to civilization, might go through a few towns before the Emerald City. Might be there's coffee in some of them."

Sighing, Cuddy sat up and stretched. A night on the hard ground left her with some aches and pains which slowly dissipated as she went through her yoga routine. When she wound down, she looked up to see House with a speculative look in his eye, and Wilson with a wide-eyed slack jawed expression on his face.

"Bendy!" Wilson exclaimed.

"Flexible," House agreed, leering a little at Cuddy, "very flexible."

Blushing, Cuddy huffed and set to work on helping clean up camp. Chase rejoined them a few moments later, hands full of his favourite berries he had picked. Opening the briefcase, she handed out the last of the apples for breakfast. Living off the land was all very fine and well, but they needed supplies and soon.

Not even ten minutes back on the black tar of the Jersey Turnpike, they hit a town. For a brief moment, Cuddy felt irritation. They could have slept in a real bed! Then she took a closer look. The town couldn't even be called that, for there were only about ten houses, a general store and a large garage. No guest lodgings to be seen, so perhaps it was just as well that they hadn't made it to town the night before. The sleepy hollow Wilson had found for them had been comfortable enough.

Judging from the look on House's face though, he seemed wary as they entered the town limits. Wilson and Chase didn't seem bothered however, so Cuddy sidled closer to House.

"You okay?"

Startled, House looked over to Cuddy, as though he had been deep in thought. "Fine," he said gruffly. He tugged a little at the collar of his wrinkled t-shirt though and rubbed the back of his neck. Cuddy knew her House well enough to guess that this House was feeling stressed about something. "But we best not stay here for too long. Tritter's got eyes in this town."

It was Cuddy's turn to be startled. She had nearly forgotten all about her Ozian encounter with Tritter, the Wicked Witch of the West. "You know, about that. Why is he called the Wicked Witch?"

House shot her a strange look, "'cause that's his title. The Wicked Witches always keep what they kill. There has always been Wicked Witches, and there always will be."

Cuddy was chilled by that. "I killed the Wicked Witch of the East," she said in a small voice, "but it was an accident. I didn't mean to, and I certainly don't want to be a Wicked Witch."

House stumbled, actually stumbled and reached out to grab at something, anything. Wilson startled at the touch, turning around. With surprising alacrity from the half-wit, Wilson reached out and hauled House up straight, supporting the heartless man's weight. Chase turned at the disturbance and came up to House's other side and obligingly became a leaning post. Cuddy was stock still with shock at the surprising reaction from House.

"Do you need to sit down?" Chase asked.

House answered by dropping like a stone, dragging the two down with him. Good answer.

Cuddy knelt before them, wanting to do something, but afraid to touch House. "House?" she questioned.

House's complexion had gone grey, and he took deep gulping breaths. "You didn't know," he said, like he was trying to convince himself. "Stacy… Stacy's the one who took my heart. She took it and she broke it and here's where it all happened."

To her horror, House dragged the collar of his shirt down to reveal a metal door where his heart should have been.

* * *

Much later, Cuddy and the three men with her (four, if one counted Toto by mere virtue of being male) were on their way. The robot town as Cuddy had taken to calling it had been like a ghost town. The full populace had been in hiding. Tritter's presence was felt, and like House, the few brave robots remaining had all urged them to keep moving.

The doctor, if one could call the robot who looked like a kindly, matronly and fully human woman that, had checked House's ersatz heart over, making sure it was in full working condition. House had confessed to not having a check up on it since getting it, to the doctor's disapproval. Cuddy could only assume that was so because he felt ashamed.

Burning with curiosity, but with what had happened earlier, Cuddy kept her questions to herself. It was difficult, but she managed to control the outward signs. At least, she thought she did.

"Go ahead," House muttered, "ask. Don't restrain yourself on my account."

Cuddy shook her head. They walked a few steps. She hesitated.

"I hate to sound insensitive, but about the whole 'keeping what you kill' thing…"

"This is the first time in annuals that a Wicked Witch has been killed and their conqueror choosing not to take their place." House was inscrutable.

"So…" Cuddy was unsure of what, exactly, that meant.

"I don't know. It's not like I have the Evil Overlord's Handbook at my disposal."

"Okay," she'd give him that one for free. It was a sensitive topic, given that she had accidentally killed his ex. Cuddy was still unsure, but given the inadequacies of House's information, she thought it best to leave it for another time, and hope it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.

"You must have really loved her," Cuddy ventured. Oddly, she felt like she was digging herself into a hole but her morbid curiosity wouldn't let her shut up. "I mean, that was a pretty big reaction…earlier."

"I hated her as much as I loved her," House replied, looking anywhere but at Cuddy. A maneuver she recognized from her own House when he was feeling particularly vulnerable.

Well, damn him. She was feeling vulnerable too. Here she was presumably dreaming, unless she was dead and this was some cracked out version of an afterlife she hadn't been sure she even believed in, and she was being forced to examine her emotions and motivations toward the people in her life; House, Wilson and to a lesser extent, Chase and Cameron. She was lost, bewildered, in a world that was strange, confusing and so completely foreign to all she knew, and quite frankly, she needed a little support too.

"I get that you and Stacy had this huge relationship and that you just found out she's dead and that I'm just dreaming after probably eating some bad mushrooms, but are you over her enough to start something with me? I mean, what was that, yesterday? Did you mean it? Any of it?"

House looked up right at her, his blue eyes burning vividly into hers. "Not all of this is a dream, Lisa."

"Please, Greg. Tell me."

"Lisa, I…"

Suddenly a sausage fell out of the sky and brained Wilson on the head. He went down with a discombobulated gesture of his limbs and an inarticulate squawk. Chase gasped loudly and crouched protectively over the disoriented Wilson, dragging him to the dubious cover of a drainage ditch. House grabbed a gaping Cuddy and followed the two.

"A sausage?" Cuddy was incredulous.

There followed a loud cacophony of snorts that sounded suspiciously like-

"Pigs?" Lisa continued in her dumbstruck vein. "_Flying pigs_?"

"Death from above," moaned a quavering Chase.

"I smell extra-evil bacon." House muttered from behind Lisa.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"That's Tritter's warped sense of humour for you," House replied.

Lisa was speechless, which was fine and well, since the phalanx of flying pigs let loose with a wave of sausages over their position. She wondered when she had walked onto the set of Monty Python. House protected her from the sausage bombs with his own body.

"How do we make them stop?" Cuddy shouted over the din.

"Give me Stacy's briefcase!" Tritter's voice boomed.

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "oh, _him_ again." She held the briefcase tighter against her body, shouting back at Tritter, "there's no chance I'll give you anything! …Except maybe syphilis. ...Not that I have syphilis, but I work in a hospital. I have access."

"I will prevail!" Tritter howled, "even if I have to pry it from your cold, dead hands!"

"You first!" House shouted, grabbing a sausage and throwing it back at Tritter. The sausage caught in the fan belt of his police motorbike and the engine started to make ominous sounds. Smoke began billowing and loud sputtering could be heard. Tritter snarled and yanked the bike Westward.

"You haven't heard the last of me!" He shouted. With a final wave of sausages, the flying pigs quickly followed.

"I'm never eating bacon again," Lisa groaned after all was said and done.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: "OK, men. And women. This is it. This is the big one. The one you've all been waiting for!" -Oliver Wood, and the Weasley twins from Harry Potter. Ahem. Um. Enjoy!

**Chapter Fourteen**

Groaning, House woke up, disoriented and uncertain as to his current location. Then his office became more apparent to him. He had fallen asleep in his yellow chair. He had an awful crick in his neck and something behind his eyes pulsed angrily. As usual, his mouth tasted like something had crawled up in there and died, to say nothing of the near agonizing pain in his leg.

For a moment, he just sat there wallowing in his pain. Then he cast about his office looking for his stash of vicodin. His blazer was on the coat rack- but he didn't remember hanging it up there. Sweating as the pain went up a notch, he slowly and painfully got himself to his feet and limped over the few steps to the coat rack. Digging into the pocket, he pulled out the orange bottle and wrestled it open. He took a vicodin and waited impatiently for the pain to subside. He leaned his face against the coolness of the glass. Pain was nauseating.

He hadn't even meant to sleep in the chair. He hadn't meant to fall asleep at all. He just needed a moment to sit, to rest his leg, and he'd just closed his eyes for a second that lasted a little too long. He looked at his watch. Far too early to be awake. Maybe too late. A sudden burst of adrenaline flooded his system as his mind conjured a panicked thought. Grabbing his cane, he made his way to Cuddy's room as quickly as he could manage.

On his way there, he was waylaid by Stacy and head of hospital security Vince something or other. He had something in his mind about a girl murdering her parents with an axe or something. Shrugging off the minor mystery of the security officer's last name, he wolf-whistled. "I take back what I said last night," he said with appreciation of Stacy's outfit and makeup. "Now, you look smokin' hot."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Tritter's one stone cold bastard. Personally, I think he's gay."

"What, you couldn't pick him up?"

"Not even when I accidentally dropped my purse and used the bend and snap."

"Damn," House shook his head. "Well, thanks for trying."

"Well, my show's not over until it's over."

"What, no fat lady?"

"Why, you volunteering?"

"Meow! Stacy, you're on fire."

"I've been awake for 32 hours, had to dress like a hooker and didn't get my mark. I'm tired, pissed off and a little frustrated. I'm gonna shower and change, get a crappy coffee from the cafeteria, hit the legal books, and then I'm gonna take that bastard down."

House watched Stacy leave. A grinning Vince paused, "the lucky bastard who married her better appreciate what he's got," he commented to House before he turned to follow her down the hallway. House shook his head, amused despite himself, and made his way to Cuddy's room. He took a deep breath, then slid open the door. Chase was still staring at the ecg output while Wilson was slouched in his chair, snoring. His neck was in a way that House knew Wilson would have a severe and painful stiffness when he woke up. House spared a sympathetic wince.

Chase looked up, "she's had a few runs of tachycardia, but she's weathered them." Chase could be trusted to be brutally honest when House was concerned. "If we don't figure out what it is, she's not gonna pull through for much longer."

House felt the bottom of his stomach fall out and he nodded. It hadn't been much more than 16 hours since Cuddy had collapsed, but it felt like so much longer. They were running out of time.

He looked at Cuddy's peaceful, serene face and he prayed to a God he didn't believe in and mocked people who did. _Please, God. Don't take her from me._

_Don't take her._

Not when he hadn't even told her that he loved her.

"Did I just see Stacy dressed like a hooker?"

House rolled his eyes and was more than a little thankful that Foreman had come up and interrupted the sappy thoughts House had found himself embroiled in. "Stacy is showing her support for Cuddy by dressing like her," House snarked as he pulled himself together emotionally.

Eric Foreman rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were helping Cameron with the tests?"

"It's taking too long," Eric said, "so I thought I'd take a different route." He raised the paper bag in his hands. "What Cuddy was wearing. Maybe there's traces of poison on her clothing."

"And what?" House said, "we're a hospital, not a crime lab, Kojak."

If Foreman kept rolling his eyes like that, they were going to get stuck that way.

Chase spoke up then, "we have much the same equipment a crime lab uses, House. There are hundreds of possible poisons, too many to test to save Cuddy's life."

"So you want to take a peepshow of Cuddy's panties?" House snarked back, then he paused. "That's not a bad idea," House snatched the bag from Foreman's hands and opened the bag.

Both his fellows exchanged sighs, looks of exasperation and sympathy.

"Nice panties," House commented, "I love the prussian blue colour, do you think they match my-" then he paused, and his mind started working a mile a minute.

"House?"

House didn't answer, instead pulling up the shirt Cuddy had been wearing. He inhaled a deep breath.

"House?" The other duckling asked that time.

"Bitter," House said. "Cuddy prefers sweet herbal teas. This smells bitter."

Foreman stepped closer, sniffing the blouse. "I don't smell anything bitter. Just jasmine, I think."

Chase frowned and stepped closer. "Whoa. Yeah, that smells bitter."

"Hydroxycobalamin," House ordered sharply. Wilson startled awake at House's loud tone, wincing and flashing one hand to his neck. He was still half asleep and groggy.

"What?"

"The cyanokit," Chase suddenly said, "it's in the locked case in the supply room. We just got the first shipment since the FDA ruled that it's safe to use."

"Cyanokit?" Wilson started to look more awake. "Huh? Was Cuddy poisoned?"

Foreman was quick on the uptake. "Cyanide poisoning," he lamented as he raced out the room to get the kit.

Mere moments later, Cameron burst in looking positively awake and beyond wretchedly overtired. Her usually coifed hair was frazzled and looked burnt out. "House! I just got the test results back: it's cyanide!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Cuddy's first glimpse of the Emerald City were tall spires that reached toward the sky. The great central city in the distance seemed majestic and welcoming. Cuddy took a step forward. House's hand shot out to land on her arm.

"Careful," House said. "We're in the realm of the Vindicuts and the Black Coats."

"Vindicuts? …Black Coats?" Cuddy questioned softly as she saw why House stopped her movements. Through the trees and shrubbery and across the slight valley ahead, there was a small band of men in long black coats resting their horses.

"Sympathizers for the Wicked Witches. Black Coats are the men who are enslaved to do the Wicked Witches bidding. They're the illegal lawmen of the OZ. Now that Tritter's seen us, they will all be on the lookout for us."

"No where to hide," Chase said with a gesture at the broad expanse of flat lands stretching out toward the Emerald City.

"But Central City is where we must go," Wilson said, "if we are to meet the Mystic Wizard of Oz."

"I'm working on it," House grumbled as his vivid blue eyes took in the sight. No one saw Wilson slip away. Hadn't realized he had even gone. At least, not until they saw Wilson approach the men. Chase let out a low moan. The men hadn't noticed the half wit yet.

House's hand tightened on Cuddy's arm, but she barely noticed. She was suddenly terrified for the first friend she had made in the OZ.

They saw Wilson make a gesture, like a nervous laugh. One of them strode toward Wilson. All of a sudden, Wilson grabbed the thrown punch, spun inside and smashed his fist against the Black Coat's face. They watched, stunned as Wilson danced out, his long legs arching up to kick another man down.

When Wilson took a hit, Chase growled and dashed forward, too fast for Cuddy and House to stop him. Chase bodily threw himself onto the man who had struck Wilson; the force pushed them both to the ground.

"Oh, that is it," Cuddy shrugged House's hand off and ran forward too. She swung the briefcase, whacking another man upside the head. Then she kicked him where no man should ever be kicked. Unless he were a rapist, or a child molester, or someone who talked at the theatre.

Not to be outdone, House made his way over to the melee and swung his cane. Sharply cracking some skulls into unconsciousness.

Wilson sat up amid the unconscious soldiers. "I don't know why I did that?"

House stared incredulously. "Did you seriously just ask that?"

Wilson scratched his head. He scrunched up his face. "Yes?"

"I think I know why," Lisa said with no small amount of satisfaction. "We have disguises and horses. We'll make way to the Emerald City so much faster."

"Yeah!" Wilson agreed. "You're so smart, Lisa!"

Lisa and Chase smiled fondly at the half wit. House reluctantly bestowed upon Wilson his best half smile.

Leaving all of the felled Black Coats in their undergarments, even the ones that didn't "donate" clothing to their cause, (House's suggestion; the embarrassment would slow them down once they had all awakened), they mounted their horses and made their way.

Chase, Lisa and House had difficulty getting their horses started, considering the fact that two had never ridden horses before and one had a serious leg injury that restricted his ability to move the horse. In the end, Wilson managed to corral the horses and urged them on. Wilson seemed to be a grab bag of surprising skill sets.

They risked recognition and took the Jersey Turnpike, the horse's shoes clopping loudly on the black tar as they raced against some unseen clock ticking their time away. The four didn't know why they felt the urgency, but they did. House even stifled his pained complaints and Chase endured the stifling heat the black leather coat induced in him, wrapped his fur close and trapping the warm air in close to his skin.

The gates of the Emerald City drew even closer, larger and larger with every mile the horses galloped toward. A staccato tune beat in Lisa's head: _Almost there almost there almost there almost there._

Then they were in. It was almost anticlimactic.

Emerald City gleamed in all her splendour as she rose around them, shining towers of green glass and bottle green walls. The sight almost choked Lisa; it was so beautiful. Sliding off her horse, she patted him before tugging the black coat off, slipping out the oversized boots, pants and shirt to reveal her slightly rumpled dress.

Beside her, the men did the same, Chase breathing out his utter relief and House white faced and stern, hand gripping his cane. Lisa looked over to him and gasped. "Oh House." She went to his side. House grunted.

"I'm fine. We had better see the Wizard before something else happens."

Toto barked and jumped from Cuddy's coat where she had held him. He jumped in place, barked again then haltingly started down a street before turning back to look at them with his dark inquisitive eyes.

"I think he wants us to follow him," Cuddy said.

"He's a dog, Lisa."

Despite House's words, he was the first to follow Toto. Wilson eagerly started walking, still half dressed in the black coat accoutrements. Chase fussed and tried to help Wilson out before the man tripped and broke his neck or something equally as dire.

The pup guided them down winding roads and through the bustle of afternoon shoppers and barkers selling their wares. Old fashioned cars drove in the streets as well as horse drawn carriages. An older time. A simpler one.

Finally, Toto stopped and sat in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at the building. Taking a look themselves, they wondered why Toto wanted them to go into a night club of all places. The club was closed, but House walked in like he owned the place and no one stopped him.

Lisa glanced at the others, then followed.

"I know and see all who enter here!" A voice boomed. "The mysteries of the universe reveal themselves to me. I hold all knowledge at my fingertips."

Lisa looked around. "Um. Great Wizard of Oz?"

"This is he!"

"We've come-"

"For a brain, a heart, love and home!"

"Yes," Lisa stuttered, looking around.

"You've come to the right place if the order of the day is a day to come for an order to the right place which is so ordered."

The four exchanged confused glances. "Um, what?" Lisa asked. She was looking for the man behind the curtain, but there were no curtains, and therefore no man behind the curtain to be seen.

"For the man seeking a half a brain, enter this doorway!" A line of red slit the gloom, widening until there in the wall became an opening large enough for Wilson to pass through. Suddenly faced with his destiny, Wilson shot the group a panicked look.

"Wait," Cuddy said, "can't we stay with him?"

"Time grows short, but I will allow one to accompany him. Chase. If you walk through the door with Wilson, you will find someone who will always love you at the end of the path."

Walk beside me, and be my friend, came the echoes of some distant quote in Lisa's mind. Suddenly, she knew the answer. She hugged Wilson and Chase, smiling through her tears. "Yes, this is the right path," she murmured to the two, "go. I wish you two all the best."

Chase gripped Wilson's hand and they vanished into the doorway. The red light increased intensity, then vanished as though it had never been. Lisa stepped closer to House. He held her hand.

"For the one with no heart, step through this doorway!"

"Well, doll. I guess this is my cue."

"House."

"Hey, don't cry for me. When you get home, you do what feels right. Take a chance on your heart."

"House, I-"

"I know, doll. Me too."

Then there was one.

Lisa looked around. Toto had vanished, the others had gone. She turned at a noise. A black man stepped out from within the gloom.

"Foreman?"

"The great and wonderful wizard," Foreman bowed, his half cloak flung over a shoulder and shiny purple suit. Armani, inexplicably. "Before you can go home, you need to remember."

"Remember what?"

"The memory you've been carrying all along, keeping it secret. Keeping it safe."

Cuddy raised the hand holding the briefcase. "But there's nothing in there."

"Isn't there?"

Frowning, Cuddy unlatched it and opened the flap. "But that wasn't there before!" She reached in and withdrew a flat rectangular, stiff material that seemed to be made of hologram plastic, but a shiny black colour. She gasped as a memory flashed on the screen and began to play out. Not just any memory, but her memory.

It was a simple memory, something she didn't really take notice before she had collapsed into her coma and subsequent strange dream. Such a simple thing.

Looking up, she nodded. "I'll remember," she promised.

"That's what I like to hear," Foreman gave her a wide smile. A bright white light sliced the gloom, and Cameron rushed in.

"You haven't much time," Cameron said in between gasps. Foreman stepped close and supported the Good Witch. "Tritter's plan will succeed unless you go home, right now."

"What about you?" Cuddy asked.

Foreman and Cameron exchanged glances. Foreman answered, his eyes on Cameron. "You keep what you kill, and this has been a long time coming." Cameron smiled understandingly back at Foreman.

Confused, Cuddy looked between the two, wondering just what it was that they had exchanged. Cameron straightened and stepped forward. Foreman turned away, a great shining sword suddenly in his hands and he looked ready for battle.

"Don't worry about us." Cameron drew Lisa's attention away from Foreman. "Just worry about yourself, and hold fast to the truths you have learned. Close your eyes and focus. Think about the place, think about the people. Think about the love."

"There's no place like home," Lisa murmured.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Cuddy woke up. Instantly, she wished she hadn't.

Her throat felt raw and distantly her medical mind supplied the answer: intubation. Extubated, now. It followed, then, that she would have an iv in her arm. Check. Then she looked down to see House's head resting on the bed by her hip. His hand wrapped loosely around hers. She moved her thumb to stroke his hand. He snuffled in his sleep. This thought came to mind: A. Dor. Able.

Cuddy smiled. Then she sat up. She hated to wake him up, but she had something really important to say. "House," she murmured, unable to speak much louder than a strangled croak. She shook his hand.

Sleepily, House sat up, groaning. "Lisa."

Blinking, Cuddy smiled, "Greg." Then she was all business, "I saw Tritter do it. I didn't think much of it at the time, 'cause it didn't look suspicious. But I saw him throw away the evidence. The trash can, by the cafeteria door. Wrapped in a napkin. Go find it, House."

House stared at her. "Lisa…"

"I know, Greg. Me too." Lisa smiled at him. House stood, his hand reluctantly pulling away. Lisa smiled. She felt like the stars had aligned, the world had shifted and everything was going to be all right.

House whistled as he made his way to maintenance. He quickly found the trashcan in question, rifling his gloved hand in it carefully. Shifting aside a browning leaf of lettuce and other detritus until he found it. He found the needle, the napkin, the evidence.

"Gotcha."

Vince held out the evidence bag, and Stacy smiled.

"Go get 'em," House said.

"Don't you want to come too?" Vince Minnelli asked.

"Naw," House shifted. "I got something else I need to do."

"Don't do anything smart-assed, House," Stacy warned, because she knew him too well.

"Don't worry. This will be the smartest thing I've ever done."

A little worried at that enigmatic statement, Stacy shot him a look. House smiled blandly back. Shaking her head, Stacy and Vince left for the authorities to start the ball rolling. Tritter was going down.

"I did not!" Cuddy laughed.

Wilson laughed, "I swear, you did. It was so funny, the look on your face as you declared to Cameron, Foreman and Chase, 'and you were there, and you were there and you were there.' Oh, the looks on their faces too! I wish I had a camera."

Lisa chuckled, her laughter winding down. She looked over and her breath caught. Wilson noted the change in the mood and looked over as well.

"Oh," Wilson cleared his throat, standing up. "I'll just…"

House pulled away from the doorway and walked to Lisa's bedside. Wilson unobtrusively stepped out.

"Lisa…"

"Greg," Lisa said softly. "…and you were there."

"I'll always be there."

Fin.


End file.
